The professional writer, whether his reputation be international,
like that of a Lowell or a Stevenson, or confined to the circle of
his village associates, never appears to pen a line without some
affectation. The literary artist does this with an ease and grace that
provokes comment upon its charming naturalness, the journeyman only
occasions some remark upon his effort to "show off." If language was
given us to conceal thoughts, letter writing goes a step further and
puts the black-and-white mask of deliberation on language.

Eugene Field was no exception to the rule that literary men scarcely
ever write letters for the mere perusal or information of the
recipient. He almost always wrote for an ulterior effect or for an
ulterior audience. But he seldom wrote letters deliberately for
reproduction in his "Memoirs." If he had done so they would have been
written so skilfully that he would have made himself out to be pretty
much the particular kind of a character he pleased. For obvious
reasons most of the communications that passed between Field and
myself were verbal, across a partition in the office, or by notes that
were destroyed as soon as they had served their purpose. That Field
had other correspondents the following request for a postage stamp
will testify:

_THE GOOD KNIGHT'S DIPLOMACY.[1]

One evening in his normal plight
The good but impecunious knight
Addressing Thompson said:
"Methinks a great increasing fame
Shall add new glory to thy name,
And cluster round thy head.